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We All Fall Down/Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven: Falling For It “Last time on Total Drama Island: For Your Entertainment, the challenge was lame but the drama was insane!” Chris waggled his hands in the air to express exactly how extreme it had been. “At the beginning of the episode, Rachel Claire got really ticked off, Victor was a jerk at Wes’s expense, and Avery gave her team a questionably sincere apology for her totally harsh actions in the last episode. Trent, Whitney Steers, and Helen D’Angelo returned to judge the singing challenge, totally unaware of just how big of a catastrophe they would be watching. “When The Oscars realized they were at a disadvantage, they exposed of The Emmys’ secret weapon by sabotaging Wes’s voice, leaving them with a very reluctant Donna to take his place. Meanwhile, Gabe and Elena’s alliance finally fell apart, and Allison and Angel found a diamond hidden in Camille’s purse. When Camille found out, she revealed that she was less of a ditz and more of a bloodthirsty murderess, which really isn’t a great thing to be if you’re being filmed twenty-four/seven, but whatever. “The actual challenge was predictably awful, but who cares about that with all this Camille drama going on? Allison and Angel called in the police, who revealed that the airhead was actually an international jewel thief searching for … um … something here in Major City. The Oscars won the challenge by a hair, and Elena and Gabe were unsurprisingly put into the bottom two, but those lucky ducks were saved by Camille’s sudden departure in the back of a cop car.” The host cackled at his own commentary. “I really doubt this episode’s drama can beat the last one, but anything’s possible this week on Total … Drama … Island: For Your Entertainment!” “Oh, crap, would you mind grabbing that for me?” Paul intercepted a bottle of body spray as it rolled across the carpet and placed it on the bed beside Irina, who was struggling to cram a pile of clothing into her suitcase. When it seemed like she had successfully packed the clothes in, she slammed the top of the luggage shut and attempted to zip it up. “How did you manage to fit everything in there before you got on the show?” Paul asked with a smirk. “Time, patience, and good old Russian willpower.” Irina responded, leaping on top of the suitcase to compress it. As she fought to move the zipper, she gestured towards a matching pink and black shoulder bag on the floor. “You feel like grabbing everything off the sink and shoving it in there?” “Yes, ma’am.” Paul gave her a salute and picked up the bag, holding back a laugh as Irina pounded on her still unzipped luggage. The pair of Oscars had managed to clear out Irina’s room within about an hour, messily shoving all of her belongings into her suitcase. The job wasn’t exactly neat, but it didn’t have to be since the bags were only traveling two doors down, where they had left Cara curled up in a ball of misery. After arresting Camille, or Veronique Chevalier to be more accurate, the police raided Room 305 and disposed of any trace of the pseudo-ditz ever living there. When Cara was finally able to return to her room, all of Camille’s belongings were gone, from her clothing to her toothpaste to even the show-provided pillows and sheets that she had slept on. The tree hugger was already upset about the situation, but having to sleep next to the eerily bare side of the room was a constant reminder of what had happened, driving her to near hysterics. With a limited number of sympathetic teammates available, Irina resumed her role of a shoulder to lean on and was there to comfort Cara just as she had with Avery. “You’re sure you’re not going to miss all of this privacy?” Paul hollered to Irina when he entered her bathroom, his voice echoing off the walls. "I actually think I’ll like having someone to share a room with.” Irina replied as she yanked the zipper a little farther around her suitcase. “It was great when Robert was here, but now it gets a little lonely.” “But it must be nice to come back from an elimination and not have to race for shower rights.” “You’re just pouting because you have to share with two of the highest maintenance girls on the team.” “I’m not pouting!” Paul argued, wiping the contradictory scowl from his face. “Yes, you are.” “I’m not!” “You are.” “ … Okay, yeah, Avery and Allison can get on my nerves sometimes.” The model chuckled. “Told you so.” She threw all her weight into one final pounce onto her suitcase, miraculously pulling the zipper closed. “Yes! I did it!” As Irina did a victory dance on her bed, Paul opened up the other piece of luggage and swept the many creams, soaps, and beauty supplies from the sink and into the bag. Once the sink was clear, he reached up to check the medicine cabinet, only to have something out of the ordinary catch his eye. The mirror was covered in multicolored sticky notes, each with a different message printed on them. The notes were arranged neatly in columns, though Paul was unable to decode the pattern because the text was written using the Cyrillic alphabet. With a quick glance, all he could make out were a few numbers and times, but the rest was a complete mystery. “Um, Irina?” Paul called. “I don’t know what these notes are, but do you need them?” “Oh, don’t touch those!” The blonde rushed into the bathroom and started removing the sticky notes one by one. “I don’t want to sound like a snoop, but what are these?” He uncomfortably rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d normally not ask, but with the whole Camille thing just happening I can’t help but wonder …” “It’s nothing to worry about.” Irina turned around to give him a smile. “I just like to have a schedule and figured that the bathroom would be the perfect place to lay it out since I'm the only one using it. It’s nothing bad, I promise.” One look into those beautiful blue eyes dissolved all of Paul’s worries, and he grinned back. “Sorry, I was just a little worried.” “It’s fine. I understand.” Irina took the bag from Paul and slung it over her shoulder. “Now, come on. We can’t leave Cara waiting much longer.” The all-American boy volunteered to take both bags, and they headed into the hallway, the Russian locking the door for the final time behind them. Irina left the key in the lock and started sorting through the pile of sticky notes in her hand. “I don’t mean to sound rude,” Paul spoke up, “but now that you’re sharing a bathroom, I’d find a different place to put your schedule.” “I’m sure Cara won’t mind.” Irina answered. “I wasn’t talking about her, I’m talking about your new neighbor.” “Angel?” “''Isaac.” The dark-haired teen specified with a sneer. “He just sees you as something he wants to get his hands on.” “He’s going to have to learn that I’m not a toy.” The blonde said. “And if he doesn’t, I can fend for myself.” “I really doubt that he’ll learn his lesson.” “Why are you so hung up over this? It’s not like he’s trying to hit on ''you.” “Because I’ve seen how he acts with Avery. She’s a gorgeous girl, and he treats her like crap because of it.” Paul explained. “Avery might deserve it, but you definitely don’t.” When they reached Cara’s door, Irina smiled. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.” Paul’s jaw snapped closed, his face flushing to a bright scarlet as Irina knocked on the door. Cara didn’t verbally respond, but they heard the lock click and caught the nature lover retreating to her bed when they opened the door. The room was completely dark other than the stream of light coming in from the cracked door. Cara held an arm over her eyes as she crawled under her blanket. “Can you please shut the door? It’s really bright.” Paul pushed the door closed as Irina perched on the end of the bare bed that had once belonged to Camille. “Are you feeling any better?” Irina asked when Cara poked her head out from under her comforter. “I don’t know.” Cara replied. “I’m just … really confused.” “That’s understandable. It’ll just take time for you to adjust.” The bombshell comforted. The nature lover shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like I’ll ever adjust.” Paul stepped out from where he had been examining the bathroom and leaned against the wall beside Cara’s bed. “There aren’t any extra sheets in here, so I was going to go down to the lobby and see if I can find some. Cara, could I get you anything? Maybe some soup or ice cream?” The brunette visibly perked up at the offer. “Actually, ice cream would be great.” “I’ll try to find some.” Paul slipped out the door to escape the awkward situation, leaving Irina to fidget uncomfortably. Cara stayed quiet and didn’t look as though she had any intentions of speaking up, so the model laid back and made herself comfortable. “Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here.” “Oh, so sorry.” Victor stared at the cards in his hand and then at the flush that Sebastian had fanned out on the table. The actor had lost. Badly. “Again.” Victor ordered, failing to detect the false sympathy in Sebastian’s tone. “If you say so.” The card shark gathered the deck and performed a few of his signature showy shuffles. In one smooth motion, he dealt hands for himself and Victor and put the remaining cards in a neat pile between them. Victor began to scrutinize his hand, but Sebastian had yet to turn his cards over. “So, you and Ophelia, huh?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” The thespian questioned, sliding a card face down onto the table. “I mean that she’s crazy in love with you.” Sebastian flicked a card at his teammate, mumbling under his breath, “Along with several other types of crazy …” “She’s not crazy!” “Then is she high? If so, why isn’t she sharing?” The Romeo’s jaw dropped. “Why would you ever-?” “It’s a joke. Ha-ha.” The gambler rolled his eyes. “That’s the only reason I can think of as to how she manages to be so perky through every god-awful challenge.” Victor leaned in, an excited look spreading across his face. “Oh my god, do you think we could actually get her to share?” Sebastian stared blankly, one of his brows eventually creeping upward. “Again, that was a joke.” “Right, right.” The actor sat back in his seat, awkwardly going through his cards. “Why did we even start talking about Ophelia? She’s just a girl with a crush. She doesn’t mean anything to me.” “You really don’t see the golden opportunity you have in front of you, do you?” When the drama king didn’t seem to understand, the card player shook his head. “The fact that you have an admirer but don’t reciprocate her feelings is the perfect situation. She loves you, so you can get her to blindly do whatever you want.” “Why would I waste my time with that? I already have practically everything I want.” Sebastian sighed. “Let me break this down for you: we’re in a competition that is based on both our performance in challenges and our ability to play the other contestants. The only way to make it to the finals is to be a naturally likeable person who hasn’t done anything that’s warranted their elimination or to be a manipulator … you, unfortunately, aren’t the former.” “Hey! I'm naturally likeable!” Victor protested, slamming a few more cards onto the table. “You threatened to push Gabe off of the stage for ruining our group song.” “That’s Gabe. He doesn’t count.” “You told Wes that if you found one more item of his clothing on the ground you would strangle him with a tube sock.” The drama king glared. “Who told you that?” “I have my sources.” The strategist smirked, placing another card down. “As I was saying, if you want to have an advantage in this game, you’re going to have to use people. It might be hard for your fragile conscience to take, but that’s what separates the person who earns first place from the one who comes in twenty-first.” “Is that what Monique and I are to you?” Victor snapped, throwing a final card down. “Just people you’re using?” “No, no, of course not. You’re my alliance. That’s a completely different category.” The gambler turned his cards face-up on the table, and Victor groaned in defeat. “And even when you think you’ve played a good game, oh look, you still lose in the end.” The cafeteria doors opened up and a new voice joined the conversation. “It doesn’t sound like you’re playing very fair.” “I haven’t seen you in a while.” Sebastian leered in Donna’s direction when she passed their table. “We would love it if you joined our game-” “No, we wouldn’t.” Victor interjected. “- So you can see firsthand just how fairly I play.” “I can’t tell if that was an attempt at sarcasm or not.” Donna pushed through the swinging kitchen door. “Either way, the answer is no.” When she was hidden in the kitchen, Sebastian swept the cards up and began to angrily shuffle them. “Would it kill her to say yes to just one thing that I ask?” He grumbled, and Victor sniggered. “You got to interrogate me, so now it’s my turn: what’s going on between you and Debbie Downer?” The thespian pondered over the racket of clanking dishes. “If you were just trying to use her, I don’t think she’d get you so pissed off.” “No, it’s something completely different.” Victor smirked. “Huh. I would’ve never guessed that you like your girls small, pale, and bitchy.” Sebastian curled his upper lip. “Trust me, I don’t.” “You do realize that I can hear you, right?” Donna shouted from the kitchen. “Of course I do!” Sebastian called back as something clattered to the ground. “What are you doing in there?” Victor asked. “Trying to take over the world.” The petite pessimist retorted. “Seriously.” “I am serious. If I had handed in a proper application, my stereotype would’ve been ‘The Megalomaniacal Schemer.’” “No, I’d say ‘The Wiseass’ fits you just fine.” Sebastian remarked. “Thanks, I try.” Donna placed something on the stove and leaned against the counter at the food window. “If you really must know, I’m making hot chocolate.” Victor furrowed his brow. “''Why''?” “Oh, are we playing Twenty Questions? If so, then you have to reword your request, because I can only respond with ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers.” The thespian groaned, and the smart aleck grinned in satisfaction. “I’m making it for your roommate.” “But I talked to Wes this morning and he seemed better.” “He can speak now, but he’s not fully recovered.” Donna explained. “He sounds like he smokes a pack of menthols hourly, so I figured I could help him out.” “Hmm, is the ice queen breaking out of her shell?” Sebastian questioned. “Do you have a thing for naïve musicians?” “No, but I like them much more than suspicious men with gambling problems.” The smart mouth smirked, and Victor snickered at Sebastian. “Besides, even if he does get the wrong impression, there’s nothing to worry about since he’s head over heels for Ophelia.” Victor’s laughter stopped abruptly. “What?” “Don’t act like you don’t know. She told me all about his love song and how he hid who it was about. What other reason could he have for being so secretive other than if it was written about her?” Donna retreated back into the kitchen and emerged with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Victor put his face in his hands, his palms muffling the strange noise that was exiting his mouth. The smart aleck frowned at him. “I’d feel sympathy for your tears, but I still haven't forgiven you for the whole snoring debacle.” When Donna left the room, Sebastian looked over at Victor. “You’re not crying, are you?” The actor removed his hands to reveal that he was actually caught in a fit of laughter. “No way.” Confession Cam Victor: The actor clutched his sides as he continued to hysterically cackle. “She thinks the song’s about Ophelia? Donna thinks she’s so brilliant, but she’s an idiot! I’ll give you a hint about why Wes is having so much trouble with his songwriting: there aren’t a lot of words that rhyme with ‘Donna.’” He twittered with laughter for another minute before pausing. “Yes, I think it’s hilarious that Wes’s relationships are totally screwed. My ability to laugh at my friends is one of my natural likeable qualities." Sebastian: “I was truly honest with the advice I gave Victor. Based on how well I understand the game, I’m sure I’m going to win. As for Victor, I can see him reaching maybe fifteenth place … if he’s lucky.” “I brought you a present.” Wes feigned a look of surprise. “But it’s not even my birthday.” “It’s out of the goodness of my nonexistent heart.” “Oh, then it must be special.” Wes accepted the mug that Donna jutted out at him and took a sip without a second glance. He grinned. “Hot chocolate?” “That’s what the package said.” She took a seat beside him against the wall of the second floor hallway. In his search for an escape from Victor’s snoring, Wes had scouted out this spot for its perfect view through The Hotel’s glass side. Sitting there, they could comfortably scope out the entire expanse of the film set. The view was a rare example of beauty on the bizarre show, the image only disturbed by the paparazzi swarming around Chris at the studios’ entrance. “I had to get past a few trolls in the kitchen, but I somehow survived.” “Don’t make fun of Elena and Gabe like that.” Wes joked, his voice crackly and hoarse but definitely there. “For once, it actually wasn’t them.” The smart mouth took a sip from her mug. “They’re supposedly done with each other, remember?” “Give them another day and they’ll be crawling right back to each other.” The songbird rolled his eyes. “If they weren’t the trolls, then who were?” “Victor and Sebastian.” Donna said with a grimace. “As if they weren’t bad enough individually, they’ve apparently joined forces in their dickishness.” “‘Dickishness?’” “It’s a very technical term.” “I’m sure it is.” The guitarist laughed. “You know, they probably wouldn’t bother you as much if you had your trusty sidekick with you.” “I think you have it reversed: I’m pretty sure that I’m the sidekick.” The wisecracker corrected. “She’s busy anyway. She was hit with a random burst of artistic passion and decided to paint a mural on our wall.” “I’m sure she would’ve come with you.” “I don’t think she even noticed when I left.” The pale-skinned girl shrugged. “But that’s enough about her. Now that you can talk, you have some explaining to do. We started a conversation in the last challenge that I intend on finishing.” Wes hid his lower face behind his mug. “Refresh my memory on what we were talking about?” “Your bizarre trust in my singing capabil-” “And here we have the hallway! Oooooh, ahhhhh!” Donna was interrupted by Minerva bursting from her room with a video camera in hand. When she noticed that she was not alone in the hallway, she pointed her camera straight at her teammates. “Oh my god, here’re two of the other awesome Emmys, Wesley Winfrey-” “Just Wes.” The guitarist amended. “-and Belladonna Surmaine!” “Donna, please.” The smart aleck requested. “Wave to the audience, guys!” Minerva instructed. Donna shot the camera a cold glare, but Wes fulfilled her request and gave it a small wave. “What are you doing?” “You’ll find out soon enough!” The motor mouth beamed. “But first, I have so many questions that I want to ask you guys! Like do you think an Emmy could win the whole game? Oh, or do you think you could come out on top? Do you like it here, do you a crush on anybody, do you have a crush on each other, do you think Chris is being nicer this season, do you like the fans, do you think you did well in the last challenge, how do feel about fruit and yogurt parfaits?” Wes gaped at Minerva's babbling. “… What?” Donna, on the other hand, was able to keep up. “In that order: why not, no way in Hell, definitely not, wouldn’t you like to know, not at the moment, significantly, not at all, yes, and, though I have no idea why it is in any way relevant, I greatly enjoy them.” “Thank you so much!” Minerva skipped down the hallway, disappearing into the stairwell just as quickly as she had appeared. Now Wes was gawking at Donna. “ … What?” The smart mouth shrugged and casually took a sip of her hot chocolate. “I have a good memory.” Confession Cam Rachel Claire: “Long story short, the contestants weren’t as open and receptive to me as I had hoped … probably because they’re intimidated by my presence.” The reporter struck a glamorous pose, her tight curls bouncing with the motion. “RealityGossip needs more than what the players were providing me, so I had to find a way to get to the real scoop. I then realized that the best plan would be to have somebody working for me on the inside, so I asked Minerva if she'd like to run a video blog on our site. All she has to do is journal about her time on the show and film interviews with her competition, which she agreed to do in exchange for absolutely nothing. I thought I’d have to offer her something in return, but she’s glad to have an excuse to interact with the fans and get in everybody’s business. She doesn’t even realize I only offered her the blog for my benefit.” She chuckled. “Oh, I just love stupid people and free labor.” Minerva: She had her video camera pointed directly at the confessional camera. “This is like a paradox or something. Since my camera’s taping your camera, it’s a video within a video, which is going to become a show within a show within a series within a channel of shows!” The redhead gasped. “Inception!” Irina and Paul tried to find something to do other than intently watch Cara eat her ice cream, but they found it hard to find something to distract them in the silent, half empty room. Their goal of not gawking became ten times more difficult to achieve when it became apparent that the ice cream was the first thing that the environmentalist had eaten in over twenty-four hours, so she was practically shoveling it into her mouth. The bombshell and the Boy Scout forced their eyes to wander around the room, focusing for a few seconds on a crack in the ceiling or a stain on the carpet before they inevitably flicked back to Cara. “So, um, how’s Avery?” Paul whispered to Irina in an attempt at casual conversation. “She’s good, I think.” Irina frowned. “Well, I hope she’s good. I haven’t talked to her in a while since I’ve been spending my time helping Cara out.” “Can she make it without you?” The do-gooder asked. “She won’t go commando and pitch a fit?” “I’m pretty sure Robert was a one-time thing.” The blonde stated. “This is more important, anyway.” “You don’t think she’s with Isaac, do you?” Cara spoke up, immediately stealing her teammates’ attention. “No!” Paul and Irina denied in unison, though the nature lover quickly caught their lie. “I’m not an idiot, you guys.” The brunette rested her chin on the heel of her hand. “Believe it or not, I know what sexual tension looks like.” “What’re you talking about?” Irina narrowed her eyes. “Isaac hates Avery.” Cara curled her upper lip. “I might look innocent and virginal, but I know what an ‘I want to tap that’ face looks like.” “Isaac is horrible to Avery, and he’s always the one to set her off.” The Russian argued. “If he cared about her, he’d stop torturing her.” “That’s not what I said.” Cara’s voice was barely above a whimper when she pulled the blanket up to cover all but her eyes. Irina stared in confusion, though Paul was swift to catch on. “She never said that Isaac cared about Avery.” The all-American boy explained. “And I agree with her that he doesn’t.” “That’s because he has Cara.” Irina claimed, turning to smile at the tree hugger. “Avery might be nice to look at, but you’re the only girl he needs.” “Good guys only like one girl.” The environmentalist mumbled. “I don’t think Isaac’s the good guy I thought he was.” Irina’s face curled into an odd mix of sympathy and puzzlement. Looking over to see if Paul understood their teammate any better, she was shocked to find an expression of guilt staining his face. Confession Cam Paul: “I was just trying to be a good friend when I’d warned Cara about Isaac. I didn’t want to see her get hurt, but now it seems like I’m the one that’s doing the hurting.” He put his head in his hands. “I obviously didn’t see the Camille thing coming, so I had no idea she’d spiral into depression and take what I said as fact. All I wanted to do is help, but now I’m the bad guy!” “Um, what the hell is that supposed to be?” Monique watched in horror as Allison tried to scoop a spoonful of yellow-gray goop onto her plate … with heavy emphasis on the ‘tried.’ The goop refused to cooperate, stubbornly clinging to the spoon by long strings of cheese no matter how furiously the daredevil tried to shake it off. Monique’s brows climbed further and further under her side swept fringe as Allison fought with what was supposed to be lunch. The battle climaxed when the punk grabbed a fork from the counter behind her and forcibly scraped the goop onto Monique’s plate. “I think it’s throbbing.” The designer commented, sticking out her tongue in repulsion. “It’s crying because I just kicked its ass.” Allison proclaimed. Monique’s widened eyes narrowed into a glare. “I’ve seen more appetizing food in a dog bowl. Where’s my real lunch?” “This is all we’ve got.” The scarlet-haired teen gestured to the pot of slimy gush beside her. “Cream of loogie soup?” “It’s macaroni and cheese.” “Macaroni usually doesn’t beg me to kill it to put it out of its misery.” The trendsetter stabbed at the blob with her fork, immediately halting its pulsating. “What really is this abomination?” “I don’t really know what it is now, but it was macaroni and cheese.” Allison insisted. “I just made the mistake of leaving Angel to supervise it, and he turned the burner up a little too high.” “‘A little?’” The diminutive diva repeated. “Okay, there might’ve been a fire extinguisher involved, but I forced Angel to try it and he hasn’t dropped dead yet, so I think we’re good.” Monique sighed and picked her tray off of the counter, immediately making a bee line for the trash can and disposing of the plate with the pasta monster attached to it. She wiped a bit of goopy residue from her hands as she headed for The Emmys’ table. When she noticed a trio of her teammates sitting in a group off to the side, she bumped Risty’s chair with her hip. “Enjoying yourself?” She smirked. “Immensely.” Risty rolled her eyes. When Monique walked away, the athlete sighed and looked up at the chair across from her. There sat Gabe, his arms crossed and his face set in an unimpressed glare. Beside Risty, Minerva was quivering at the rich boy’s presence, her video camera clenched tightly between her shaking hands. “Okay, guys, could we move this along? We're getting nowhere.” Gabe arched an eyebrow. “Maybe this would move a little faster if one of you would just tell me why I’m here.” Risty turned to her roommate. “Well, Minerva?” “Um …” The redhead took a nervous gulp before she started to jabber at rapid speed. “I wanted to ask you if you'd help me with something, but when I saw you I kind of sort of freaked – actually, no, that doesn’t cover it, I totally panicked and now I’m just sitting here shaking like a total chicken and all I wanted was an interview for my blog but I’m kind of terrified that you’ll verbally tear me limb from limb since you hate me and-” “Don’t be afraid of me.” Gabe interrupted. “I don’t hate you.” “You don’t?” When he shook his head in denial, Minerva’s chatter screeched to a stop. “… But what about when you ganged up on me with-” “Let’s not ruin this conversation by mentioning She Who Shall Not Be Named.” The bushy-haired Emmy suggested. “That was all based on her prejudice and was completely her plan. I just followed along, but now I’m not going to waste any of my precious time on her anymore.” The chatterbox blinked twice as she absorbed his words. “So … you don’t hate me?” “Nope. Sure, you can be obnoxious, but I never really hated you. I don’t care that you’re gay. What you do in your private life has nothing to do with me.” A blinding smile spread across Minerva’s face as she held up her video camera. “Oh my god, this is amazing! Now, would you mind doing an interview?” When the wealthy teen started to question her, Risty butted in. “Here, let me spare you from twenty minutes of Minerva's explanatory word vomit. Rachel Claire gave her a blog on her magazine’s website for behind the scenes interviews with the other contestants. Minerva thought the fans would be interested in what you have to say after the whole fallout with Elena.” “Oh, then of course I’ll do it.” Gabe shrugged. “Why wouldn’t they be interested in me? I’m fascinating!” “Yay!” Minerva fiddled with the buttons on the side of her camera. “Just look right here, and when the little light turns on-” She was interrupted by the cafeteria door slamming open. As the contestants had learned to expect, Chris McLean entered with an excited grin on his face. “It’s challenge time!” “How did you find the time to build this?” “Ha. I didn’t lift a finger. That’s what Chef and the expendable employees are for.” Chris laughed to himself as the contestants gaped at the obstacle course looming before them. It began at the docks and was raised over the water by several wooden posts, the changing color scheme dividing the course into three distinct parts. Several contraptions were moving around and, unlike most other shows, none of the obstacles seemed to be padded with foam for safety. “Welcome to your sixth challenge, which is obviously an obstacle course!” Chris announced. “We figured you guys had it easy in the last few challenges, so we decided to bring back some good old Total Drama pain and humiliation. The course will be split into three rounds that will push you to your physical breaking point, with thirteen people being eliminated from the first two courses. The final five will move on to the third course, which will go until only one team is left standing.” The host pointed over to the first, largest set of obstacles, which were painted in bright red and white. “This beast is round one! “Three of you will compete at once, and the last to reach the end in each group is eliminated. Let’s get the ever-so-handy Scribble Chef out here to demonstrate for the viewers at home!” The camera zoomed in to the start of the course, where a crude stick figure that vaguely resembled Chef Hatchet was drawn into the shot. “You’ll start way up on these pedestals, where you have to zip-line down to those itty bitty platforms floating in the water. If you’re lucky enough to land on the float, there’ll be an oar waiting for you so you can row yourself to the next obstacle. If you don’t …” Chris cackled as Scribble Chef splashed down into the water. “You’re going to have to pick up your oar anyway and swim with it to the Tennis Targets.” The camera moved to the next obstacle, a platform that slanted upwards, though most of it was blocked by a door that didn't have a handle. “Use your oar to pull a bucket of tennis balls down from on top of the door. You’ll need to chuck the balls at your target waaaaaay over there.” The camera turned to show a tiny target mounted on a thin pole emerging from the water about twenty feet away. “When you hit the target, the door'll open for about ten seconds, so if you’re fast enough you might be able to sneak through someone else’s door if you’re behind. This’ll lead you to the next obstacle: the Barrel Roll!” The red door slid open to reveal the rest of the sloped platform, and Scribble Chef was knocked over by a barrage of bright red barrels. “It’s just like Donkey Pong, except in real life! Unless you want to end up like Scribble Chef, you’ll probably want to jump.” The camera moved on to the next obstacle: three sets of towers. Each row consisted of six towers constructed out of misshapen blocks stacked atop one another. “If you can conquer the Barrel Roll, you’ll find yourself at the Toppling Towers. The second you step on one of these towers, it’ll start to fall, so you’d better hurry if you want to make it out dry. If you splash down, you have to swim over to and climb up the ladder to the Trampoline Jump, where you’ll use the tiny tramp to leap onto that swinging platform. If you manage not to totally miss, you then have to jump from the swinging platform to the stable one where your final obstacle awaits. If you fall in the water at any time, you have a hell of a ladder climb ahead of you, followed by this baby.” The camera zoomed in on the last obstacle, a jagged rock wall. “To finish this course, you need to get to the top of the Rock Wall of Shame and press the big red button. Last person to press the button gets put on the bench for the next round. Got it?” “Not at all.” Ophelia shook her head. “Good!” Chris smirked. “Let’s get the ball rolling with Donna, Isaac, and Minerva.” “Lucky number one.” Isaac groaned. When the three very different competitors were situated at the top of the first platform, Chris pulled out a bullhorn and held it up to his mouth. “On your marks … get set …” Instead of shouting “Go!” as was expected, the host pressed a button on the device's handle, causing it to emit a shrieking wail. The contestants spectating on the dock covered their ears, though the three on the platforms recovered quickly and began to descend their zip-lines. In an instance of freak luck, Donna had released at the correct time and landed on her floating platform. As she began to row, Isaac zoomed past her, letting go of his zip-line when he was right above his platform. However, the momentum he had built up on the ride sent him skidding off the edge of the float and into the water. Minerva chickened out at the last moment and rode her line way too far, splashing down just in front of the next obstacle. She surfaced and spit a long stream of water from her mouth. The loudmouth looked up at the obstacle ahead of her with a grin. “Sweet! My screw-up put me into first place.” “Not exactly!” Monique hollered from the dock. “You need your oar, remember?” “Dang it!” Minerva began to breaststroke back to her platform just as Donna’s float bumped the edge of Tennis Targets. The wisecracker approached the door and used her oar to try to retrieve a bucket of tennis balls. Her small stature forced her to take several tries to reach the bucket, and the minute she spent struggling gave Isaac enough time to swim up to the edge of the platform. As he retrieved his bucket, Donna began tossing tennis balls at the target. Unfortunately, her lack of athletic prowess had chosen this as its time to shine, and every one of her attempts missed. When Isaac had successfully collected his bucket, it only took him two shots to hit the target, causing the door to swing open. After watching Isaac move onto the Barrel Roll, Donna dropped her bucket and slipped through the open door before it had a chance to close. Minerva finally scampered out of the water and attempted to follow, though the door closed right on her face. “Oh, come on!” Realizing that she didn’t even need the oar that she had gone to such painstaking lengths to collect, Minerva gathered the tennis balls that Donna had left behind and flung them all in one lob. One tapped the edge of the target, and the door swung open. When she approached the Barrel Roll, Minerva could see Isaac easily hurdling barrels towards the end of the sloped platform. Donna’s height had betrayed her once again and made it much more difficult to jump over the barrels, so she was stuck near the beginning of the obstacle being bombarded with barrels. Minerva bounded over the incoming barrel and tugged Donna on the arm. “Let’s go!” She pulled her to her feet and over the next barrel. “What are you doing?” Donna questioned, trying to break free of the chatterbox’s hold. “Saving your butt.” “Yes, I understand that my butt was in desperate need of saving, but why?” “We’re against each other for this one round, but we’re still a team. We have to stick together! Now jump!” Thanks to Minerva’s guidance, the two Emmys were able to hop their way to the end of the Barrel Roll. As they stepped on the platform for the next obstacle, they watched Isaac attempt the middle set of Toppling Towers. The blocks began to fall apart beneath his feet, sending him into the water at the third tower. “Thank you for helping me, but we’re on our own for this one. Good luck.” Donna stepped onto the farthest set of towers, sprawling her arms out in an attempt to keep her balance. Once she seemed slightly stable, she hopped to the next one. The towers began to tip beneath her, so she picked up the pace, reaching the fifth tower before plummeting into the ocean below. After seeing her two competitors fail at the challenge, Minerva decided to just wing the obstacle and rushed across the towers at full speed. With bounding strides, she was able to outrun the quickly crumbling towers … only to forget to apply the brakes when she arrived at the Trampoline Jump and accidentally dash off of the edge of the platform. Meanwhile, a dripping wet Isaac clawed his way up the ladder and pulled himself up to the platform. He shook out his hair before bounding for the trampoline, getting a good leap out of the springy surface. The slacker’s timing had been spot on and he landed perfectly, albeit painfully, on the swinging platform. “What is this thing made out of?” He moaned, clutching his ribs. As he wallowed in his pain, he heard Donna spring from the trampoline behind him and hurtle straight into the water. Chris chuckled into his bullhorn. “Cement!” “I shouldn’t have asked.” The underachiever rolled his eyes and slowly rose to his feet on the moving platform. Taking a minute to find the perfect timing, he jumped safely to the final obstacle. He mounted the Rock Wall of Shame just as Minerva reached the top rung of the ladder. “Hey, wait up!” The motor mouth called, following him up the wall. “No way!” Isaac shouted back. As the troublemaker and blabbermouth raced up the wall, they heard Donna drag herself onto the platform below them. Because the smart aleck was so far behind, it became a race for bragging rights only, so Minerva slowed down. This gave Isaac the opportunity to haul himself up to the top of the wall and press the button, doing an uncoordinated victory dance. A minute later, Minerva pulled herself over the ledge and pressed the button as well. “Nice job!” Isaac was surprised at the encouraging words from an opposing player, but a corner of his mouth quirked up anyway. “Thanks. You too, I guess.” “And we have our qualifiers!” Chris’s voice echoed. “Donna, you’re out!” “I’m pretty sure we already knew that!” The pessimist, who had taken a seat on the platform at the bottom of the Rock Wall of Shame, yelled back. “How am I supposed to get back to the dock?” “Swim, of course!” The host cackled. “Whoa, whoa, hold up.” Isaac held up a hand. “That means that even if I’d been flawless on the course, I’d still have to get drenched?” “Bingo!” Chris shot him a finger gun. Isaac, Minerva, and Donna let out a chorused grunt and reluctantly hopped into the water. The next trio to run the course was Wes, Paul, and Allison. While Wes didn’t seem to know to swim, his speed on the obstacles and long, bounding steps were able to make up for all the time he wasted flailing around in the water. The race was tight until the players reached the Toppling Towers, where Allison made a fatal mistake and tumbled off the second one. This gave Paul and Wes a sizable time advantage over her, so they both easily beat the daredevil to the buzzer. When the course was reset, Monique, Irina, and Risty were called to compete. Being the shortest overall competitor, Monique had a much harder time jumping the distances in each obstacle, allowing the two tall girls to beat her by a long shot. Next to take on the challenge were Cara, Victor, and Ophelia. The nature lover’s usual enthusiasm seemed to have vanished, and she shuffled through the obstacles as though she wore cement shoes. Victor and Ophelia had turned the individual challenge into a team effort and helped each other through the obstacles, eventually beating the uncharacteristically sluggish Cara up to the button. Sebastian and Angel followed their run, and the two young men seemed neck and neck all the way through the Trampoline Jump. When they were scaling the Rock Wall of Shame, however, several rocks in Angel’s path just happened to come loose, and Sebastian was able to beat him to the top and secure his spot in the second round. When Chris announced the names of the only three contestants yet to attempt the challenge, the other players knew that their races had only been an appetizer to the feast of entertainment the final run would provide. This stunt was sure to become a viral sensation … Gabe, Elena, and Avery had to compete against each other. “Um, I’m not supposed to get this skirt wet.” Avery whined. “Or this shirt … or this bra … actually, I’m just not supposed to get wet at all. I’m dry clean only.” “Who cares about you when there’s something way more important in danger: my hair!” Elena screeched. “Do you know how long it takes me to do this?!” “We’ve heard it before, and we don’t want to hear it again.” Gabe snarled. “You do not want to start with me, douche nozzle!” Elena stomped her foot. “I am sick of your shit! I don’t know what I was thinking when I started an alliance with an idiot like you!” “Oh, the feeling is mutual.” As Gabe and Elena quarreled, Avery glanced between them with an unimpressed glare. “Do I really have to compete against them? It’s obvious that I’m going to win.” “Excuse me?!” Gabe and Elena shrieked in unison. The drama queen sighed. “Can we get this over with?” The only response was Chris honking the bullhorn. “Thank you!” Avery grabbed onto the zip-line and threw herself from the platform, speeding down the wire and miraculously landing on her float. Gabe and Elena stopped their spat long enough to spot her rowing towards the next obstacle. “Now look what you did!” Elena shoved Gabe aside before grabbing onto her zip-line and falling right into the water below. When her head broke the surface, Gabe flew by on his wire, shooting her a censored finger gesture. He dropped safely onto his platform and began rowing after Avery, not noticing that Elena was right on his tail. The socialite grabbed onto the back of his float and clawed her way up to him. “Get your own boat, you mooch!” Gabe kicked at her with both feet, though Elena refused to return to the water empty handed. She grabbed Gabe by the tie and yanked him into the ocean with her. All that could be seen above the water was the splashing of thrashing limbs, but eventually Elena emerged victorious and crawled onto the platform. “You snooze you lose, sucker!” She blew a raspberry at the rich kid as she rowed to the Tennis Targets. She pulled a bucket of tennis balls down with her stolen oar and rapidly chucked them at the target. “Get back here, bitch!” Gabe burst from the water and scrambled up onto the platform just as Elena hit the target. The hotel heiress rushed through the door as it opened, bounding over the incoming barrels. Gabe chased her up the slope and seized Elena by the foot, pulling her down to the ground. She was pummeled by barrels before she could get back to her feet, handing Gabe the lead. The old money teen reached the Toppling Towers just in time to see a squawking Avery tumble into the water. Gabe took a running start before trying his hand at the obstacle, though he splashed down almost immediately. Elena cackled at the sight when she finally escaped the barrels before skittering across the unstable towers. When the fourth tower began to lean, the socialite leapt the rest of the length, landing hard on her stomach on the next platform. “Out of my way!” Avery pulled herself up from the ladder. She kicked Elena to the side, sending her cannonballing into the ocean as Avery sprung to the swinging platform. As the drama queen curled over in pain, Gabe thumped down next to her. “I saw you push Elena into the water.” He grinned as they both climbed to their feet. “Very nice work.” “She had it coming.” Avery shrugged one shoulder before hopping safely to the Rock Wall of Shame. Gabe attempted to follow but jumped just short, landing right on top of Elena in the ocean. They began to squabble again as Avery scaled the rock wall and hit the buzzer. “Newsflash, Dumb and Dumber!” Chris called out. “There’s only room for one of you idiots in the next round!” Gabe shoved Elena’s head under the water and climbed up the ladder. When the hotel heiress burst from the sea, she snatched the end of Gabe’s pant leg and plucked him off of the ladder. Elena rushed to the top of the platform, though Gabe was hot on her trail as she began to ascend the rock wall. As she neared the top, he grabbed a handful of her hair. “You wouldn’t!” Elena challenged. Gabe nodded. “I would.” He yanked her hair as hard as he could. Elena screeched and fell backwards, plunging into the ocean. A cocky laugh escaped Gabe's mouth as he pulled himself on top of the wall and pressed the button. “And we have our two qualifiers!” Chris cheered. “Elena, you’re out!” Confession Cam Gabe: He sat with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised triumphantly. “Elena should’ve learned by now: you don’t mess with a Patterson.” Chris smirked at the camera. “One round and five contestants down, two more exciting challenges to go! Who will survive our brutal obstacle course? Who will-” “''Argh!” Elena squealed as she pulled herself out of the water and onto the dock. When the camera tried to focus on her, she waved it away. “Back off, man! You’re not getting any wet t-shirt contest footage from me!” Chris sniggered. “As I was saying, who will be left soaking wet? Will Cara be back to her old happy self? Will Elena be able to get back at Gabe for-” “Of course I will!” Elena exclaimed. “You just wait! That little turd is going ''down!” “Okay then, I guess she will. Why did I even ask?” The host rolled his eyes. “Stick through the commercial to see conclusion of this hilarious challenge on Total … Drama … Island: For Your Entertainment!” <<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>>